Secrets of Night
by seethemstars
Summary: *Triggers:Self Harm/Domestic Abuse* Madison knew her Dad had some problems. Sure he drank too much and got mean sometimes, but she would have never thought she would have to live without him. But when two vampires burst into their house, killing her father and injuring her, Madison's only hope was in two monster fighting brothers. *One-Shot*
1. Chapter 1

Hey Guys! This is my first fic, so please forgive any errors. Go ahead and leave some comments if you have any feedback. I'm always open to suggestions! Enjoy the story everyone!

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My phone was buzzing uncontrollably, bouncing, tottering on the edge of the nightstand where I tossed it late last night, right before I collapsed into my bed. The music of my alarm started in loud, strong, and just kept going. Rolling over onto my stomach I reached my arm out for the snooze button. The music stopped, and I rest my head back on the pillow, closing my eyes.

"MADISON! DON'T YOU DARE SNOOZE." My bedroom door swung open, my dad was standing there with his arms crossed. He was dressed for action, like he always is at five in the morning. His gray sweats were baggy, his green t-shirt tight; once a soldier, always a soldier, I guess. Every inch of him was war-ready; from his buzz cut, to his towering height, despite the fact that had been out of the military for three years now. "I want you up, dressed, and ready to run in ten minutes. Don't be late again." He growled at me.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes at him and untangled my limbs from the sheets. He turned around and went downstairs, to count down the seconds til 5:10, no doubt. My entire body protested each movement. My muscles were still aching from yesterday, but there was no skipping morning PT in this house.

At 5:09 I stepped into the kitchen, clothed in running shorts and a matching neon tank. Dad was waiting for me at the door, looking angry. It was going to be a long morning.

Five miles into our eight mile run, my calves were screaming and my lungs burning. I watched Dad's shoes kicking up patches of dust as he pounded at the ground in front of me. He was getting bad again, I could tell. PT was getting harder, and he was getting stricter, scarier.

An hour and a twenty minutes later, we were in the home stretch, our little house was next on the block. It was a good thing too, because a long run like this, in California's hot summer sun left me dripping in sweat. My hair was starting to fall from it's place in a ponytail, and my legs were getting shaky. Dad stopped on the porch just steps away from the air conditioning of the house.

"That was not your best work Madison, you could have done better. I want you at a nine minute mile. You were too slow today. Now work on your arms. Do as many pushups as you can." Dad's hands rested stiffly on his hips, as he looked down on me.

"But Da-"

"Do not test me today Madison. No arguing. On the ground. NOW." He stood waiting, getting impatient.

Taking a gulp of air, I bent down into a horizontal position, bending my arms, lowering my body until I was parallel with the green grass, and up again. After twenty I was getting sloppy. After twenty-nine, my palms were sweating, and I was struggling to not slip. At thirty five I was ready to stop. On the thirty-eighth down, I let myself go all the way down. The moment I hit the ground my arms were shaking, I could feel the blood pulse in my ears, laying there for a moment, not quite catching my breath, waiting for the inevitable "Give me ten more, or I'll make you wish you did ten more." speech from my father. I got that speech often, actually. And when I didn't hear his insults I looked up, searching for the disappointed face. But he was nowhere to be found. Rolling onto my side, I peeled myself from the floor, and went into the house, walking on trembling feet, searching for him.

Sure enough, there he was, at the kitchen island, with a beer bottle in his right hand, dripping with condensation. He didn't look at me when I closed the door behind me, just asked, "How many did you do?"

"Thirty-seven. Isn't it early for a beer? It isn't even seven yet."

"Madison. I am the adult. Do not disrespect me by telling me what I should, or should not do. Do you hear me?" The glare in his hazel eyes was worse than I'd ever seen before.

"Yes, sir." I looked down to the ground. _Be small. Be small. Don't look at him._ "Can I go shower, now?"

"Yes. Go. I am going out to run some errands. Don't expect me home for a few hours." He was still shaking his head in disappointment.

"Alright." I whispered, turning up to the stairs, but I didn't get past the second step.

"And Madison?"

"Yes?" I turned towards the kitchen.

"Thirty eight is not acceptable. Training will be long tomorrow. I expect no complaints."

"Yes sir."

I waited until I could hear the front door slam shut. Then I waited until I saw the truck pull out of the driveway, rattling down the street. I crawled into my bathroom, and pulled the shirt sticking to my ribcage over my head, shorts next, until I was standing in front of the shower in a sports bra and underwear. Turning on the shower, I let the steam fill the room for a moment, before stripping all the way down and stepping into the stream of water. I stayed there for a while. Too long. He would have a fit if he knew how much water I had used. Once the tension in my aching legs and arms was lessened from the heat, I turned off the shower, wrapping my body in a towel I walked to my bedroom in search of clothes.

I was only partially dressed when I reached into the top drawer of my desk. Moving around some things, I reached all the way into the back, pulling out a small wooden box and setting it on the desk. Opening the rose engraved box, I grasp tightly on to the tiny metal object, fingering the sharpened end. It was the perfect kind of tarnished shiny when the sunlight hit it just right. Easing on to the carpet, I let my legs slide out straight in front of me exposing my middle, and all the marks there. They are little stories, carved into my flesh. The roadmap of loss and disappointment and fear that seemed to make up every corner of my life.

Setting the sharp end against the pale area near my hip bone, I pushed down. Then across. Each line turning red with emotion. Another day, another mistake, and my day had hardly even started. One short line for each mile I didn't run fast enough. One long line for the beer he was having already. Three more for the years she's been gone. Each sketch in my skin opened the gates to my inside, crimson leaking out, slowly at first. The pain was sharp, intense for a few moments before it settled back into the pit of my stomach. But for those few moments my head was peaceful, the guns and grenades silenced, and for a moment there was bliss. Another line was stretched from just under by bust, straight and determined, pushed into my hip, for all the hurt stored inside me. It didn't used to be this way.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey Everyone! I saw that several of you are following my story, and that makes me super happy! Thanks guys! I just wanted to ask y'all something before you start reading. I have all the chapters written, so I can update this story more than once a week, if you'd like? You just have to leave a comment letting me know what you think. Thanks again for reading my lil story!**

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**Last Line:** Another line was stretched from just under my bust, straight and determined, pushed into my hip, for all the hurt stored inside me. It didn't used to be this way.

It was eleven o'clock when I finally heard the front door squeak open and slam shut. Dad was home, after being gone for sixteen hours.

I was upstairs in my room with a chemistry binder open on my lap and medical terminology Flashcards spread about my feet. Finals were next week and I needed to pass if I had any hope of getting into Harvard. Junior finals are important, after all. There was some music playing faintly in the background, and I didn't even think about getting up to greet him. I just assumed he would be drunk and raging. It's better when he's like this if he just collapses into bed before remembering about me. But he didn't forget tonight.

"MADISON ANN. GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW." His voice was raspy as it boomed up the stairwell. _Save me now. He sounds pissed._

Jumping up quickly I tripped over my Chem binder and smashed some of the Flashcards under my heels. Steadying myself on the doorway, I tried to be both quick and quiet as I made my way to him. But I fell again on the stairs, my clumsy feet just couldn't find their place on the ground and I fell on my hands and knees at the bottom. _Oh god. He's gonna kill me. I'm gonna die. Right here and right now. He already thinks I'm enough of a disaster. _

I was right. As soon as I raised my head and started to stand up, brushing the sweat forming on my palms on the thigh of my sweatpants, his big hands were on my shoulders. He turned my back until it was facing the wall, and then slammed me backwards. The thud of my head hitting the drywall was enough to send my stomach spinning. He pulled me up, until my feet were dangling inches above the ground. I swear he's stronger drunk. "What the hell do you think you're doing, you clutz? Can't you do a damn thing right? Such a fuck up you know that? Your mom would be so disappointed in you." When he was done yelling for the moment, he dropped me back on my feet, but before I could bring my hands up to protect my face his fist connected with my jaw. The crack was deafening, he was so much stronger than me, and I could hear my body screaming out against the strike. I blacked out for a moment, everything got fuzzy and warm. He never got the second swing in before the front door was thrown open with unreasonable force, smacking against the wall, leaving a wide hole where the doorknob was, and two guys stepped through.

They were tall and they had an angry hunger in their eyes. The kind that I knew went down to the pits of their souls. I heard something vaguely similar to a whimper come out of my mouth, as the two men approached my dad and me. The guy on the left took Dad and pushed him, strong and hard, so he fell on his backside. I'd never seen anyone do that before. The other guy was headed towards me. I crouched down low, hiding behind myself. _Be small. Be small. No eye contact. Look at the ground._ This tactic worked for Dad once, not anymore, but once. This guy was undeterred by my defense and he bend over to reach my height picking me up roughly and holding me be the waist he whispered in my ear "Don't you worry baby doll we're gonna take real good care of you. Take you home with us. You'll live for many more days." His calloused hands covered my mouth holding in the scream threatening to burst from within me. That ugly man held me like that, arms around my body, suffocating me, while watching my dad struggle for his life.

He fought the man, who was probably larger than the one around me, trying to keep him at a distance. But this guy was too good for my sober dad, my plastered, abusive dad didn't have a chance. That didn't make what I saw any easier though. The man bashed Dad's head against the kitchen countertop, blood dripping from the open gash on his forehead. Once he was out of it, he bend his neck far to the side, and I watched as a second set of teeth dropped down from his gums. They were mean teeth, long and jagged, and he sunk them deep into my father's neck. I watched as he grew limp under the man's grip. The goon holding me dropped me on the ground, pushing me back against the wall. "Jack, it's your turn to watch the girl, I want my half of the drunk."

'Jack' turned to face the guy who used to be holding me, "Fine. But I'm not going to deal with this girl's shit." He unsheathed a long knife from his belt and came at me. I flinched, but was unable to get away. I was at his mercy, and he didn't look very forgiving.

When his knife was inches away from my stomach, he quickly plunged it deep into my gut, I screamed out at the fire erupting from the place below my ribs. My lungs didn't seem to hold enough air to satisfy the demand of my brain.

While my eyes were closed, trying to pull the pain out of my middle and put into into the imaginary triangle at the base of my skull, just like Dad once taught me, the ugly man's head was sliced, falling off his shoulders, hitting the ground, rolling towards me. It was getting closer and I screamed, scrambling up as best I could with my hand pressed against the part of me that was pouring out, trying to get away from the head, but I was caught, ran right into the man, who probably cut off my assault's head. He was wearing a leather jacket that was worn and faded, but his face was the opposite; his eyes bright green, and full of concern

"Whoa. Hey. Hey. It's okay. I'm not gonna hurt you. My name's Dean and this my brother, Sam." He said gesturing to the tall guy wearing plaid. He was standing over the body of my father, and the headless figure of the guy who held me back.

I backed up, against the wall, although I had nowhere to go. I put out my arm, keeping him at distance. But I was starting to loose my grip. This cut was so much deeper than I had ever gone before, and I was getting dizzy. Sliding down to the floor, my vision was dancing with black, I managed to wheeze out a "Don't touch me." Before I completely lost consciousness.

When I came to, I was in the back of a car, with a stranger pressing something against my stomach. Instantly I panicked, jerking up, and away from his warm embrace, I pushed myself as far against the other side of the car as I could. "What the hell do you want with me?" I screeched.

"Calm down. We aren't going to hurt you. You got cut up pretty bad, Dean and I are talking you to the hospital." It was only then that I realized there were two of them in the car. The one with the leather and the green eyes in the front, the giant in plaid was with me.

Dean turned back look at us. "You're safe with us. Don't worry." He said softy before turning back to the road.

_I they're going to take me to the hospital. They'll want records. They'll investigate. They'll put me in foster care or a group home. No no no. I can't do that. _

"No. No. Please don't take me to the hospital. I can fix this. I just need a first aid kit. I can't go to the hospital. No. No hospital." My voice was getting faster, more anxious. I was about to have a panic attack and I was still squished as far away from the boys.

"Okay. Okay. You need to calm down. You're only making that bleed worse. We won't take you to the hospital." The plaid one, Sam, told me.

"We won't?" Dean questioned from the front.

"No. We won't. We'll take her to the room. We can figure everything out from there. After she's fixed up. Okay? What's your name, kid?"

"Madison. And I'm not a kid." I growled back at him before my stomach erupted into pains like I'd never known before. It was burning hot and cold at the same time, my stomach was clenched, my head pounding against my the inside of my skull. I was going to pass out again soon, if I didn't calm back down.

The last thing I remember before I passed out for the third time was; "Dean, you better drive faster."

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey Guys! I just want to say thanks to everyone who is reading! It would really be awesome is I got some feedback though. Please don't forget to follow/review! The story is about to get a bit more exciting now!**

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**Last Line:** The last thing I remember before I passed out for the third time was; "Dean, you better drive faster."

It was going to be a long night.

The light was bright, blinding, like when the sun rises too early in the summer morning. I wasn't in the old car anymore, I couldn't feel the vinyl of the seat underneath me anymore, instead I found a scratchy blanket, and a cheap mattress that gave a little too much under my body. Liquor and cheap cigarette smoke laced the air I was breathing. We were in a motel. One of those sketchy, themed ones, just like where Dad and I would stay when he needed to escape the confines of this little town and its prying eyes.

I was just going to leave my eyes closed, relax in this half awake state. The sting from my gut still buzzed with every shallow breath, and my jaw ached beneath the skin, bruises forming already, but this was a feeling I relished, this was what I lived for. The pain and the ache that temporarily took me away from everything that was wrong with my life, everything that I was not. Cold hands suddenly touched my middle, pulling up at the hem of my tattered Old Navy shirt, jerking me from the peace in my mind.

"AAAHHH!" Screeching erupted from deep within my throat, as I scrambled backwards, climbing up the wall, with one hand pressed against my wound, and the other stretched out in defense.

It was the plaid one who sat in the backseat with me. He was too close. He was sitting on the other end of the bed, at least until I screamed. I guess he thought I was unconscious or something because when I blew up, the force of my hollering made him tumble backwards, and off the end of the bed, landing on that nasty brown shag carpet with a thud.

The other one, with the leather jacket, wasn't too far away, and I must have surprised him too, because he dropped the duffle bag in his arm, and ran towards the one on the ground. While the plaid giant was gathering himself from the ground, I looked down to my stomach. The sudden, jarring movement must have loosened the clots up because the blood started seeping more into my gray shirt, turning the cotton maroon, soaking into the fabric, spreading.

"Damn." I muttered mostly to myself. This was easily the messiest wound I've had.

"What the hell? What is wrong with you? You wanna get us kicked out?" The short one yelled at me. As he yelled, he got closer to me, until he was at the foot of the bed. He was mad. The glare in his eyes reminded me a lot of the look Dad got sometimes.

"Dean. Dean." _That's right. The short was is Dean. _

"What Sammy?" He growled back at Sam. _And the giant is Sam. Sam in plaid. Dean in leather._

"Can I talk to you for a second?" He turned towards the door, moving to the corner of the room.

"What Sam? She can't do that. We're gonna get kicked out. Or the cops called!" They were whispering so they thought I wouldn't be able to hear them, but the motel room was far too little for that, I could hear every word.

"No. That's not what I'm talking about. Something isn't right here."

"Damn straight. Since when do we bring injured chicks to our motel room? I mean, I feel bad enough that we didn't get to her before that vamp bled that guy and stabbed her. But we just take 'em to the hospital. Our job is just to get them there. And to kill the monsters. The monsters are dead, Sammy. Why do we still have her?"

"Her, has a name, you bastards." I didn't realize how hard it was to breathe until I actually spoke. God my lungs hurt.

Both boys turned and looked at me. Surprised for a moment that I was listening.

"Maddie will get out of your hair as soon as I can breath again. And stop bleeding and passing out, of course." I gasped reaching for the edge of the mattress to steady myself as I prepared to stand up. Sam and Dean rushed to the edge of the bed to help me. Or stop me. I'm not sure which, but I put my free arm out. "But. If either of you touch me I will scream. Again."

Sam looked towards Dean as he gave a slight nod and they both backed away a little.

Satisfied, I turned my attention to more important matters. I needed some medical supplies. And then to get to the bathroom. I could handle it from there. "You idiots wouldn't happen to have a first aid kit, would you?" I turned my gaze to Dean who reached into the duffle he dropped earlier pulling out the largest first aid kit I'd ever seen. "That will be perfect. May I use it?"

"Just sit back down and we'll patch you up. We've dealt with a few stabs before." Sam pleaded with me a little. I guess it must have hurt him not to be able to help.

"No thanks. I can handle. This on my own." I stated as I reached for the wall and pulled myself on to shaky feet. Taking a few steps towards the bathroom Dean interrupted my concentration.

"Come on, Madison. This is stupid." He was looking rather mad as he stood with the kit still in his hands.

"Take that to the. bathroom. Will you?" I ignored him and waited until the package was safely on the counter beside the sink and Dean was a good distance away from me before I started walking again. With my hand on the doorway, I looked at them, "Besides. You said it yourself. This isn't your job. What ever the hell your job is." And with that I closed the door and slid down onto the linoleum.

Steading my breath I lifted my shirt, back against the door, the kit open on the floor next to me. I washed my hands quickly, and ripped the soiled shirt to inspect the damage. It was deeper than I thought. Long and straight, the gap stretched a few inches to the right of my belly button and then right below, down by my hip. Soaking cotton balls in disinfectant I cleaned the blood and pus away, until all that was left was the raised edges of the gash, flared, and still oozing a bit. Grabbing some floss and a needle I began the suture I had only just learned.

While leaned against the door I could hear Sam and Dean talking on the other side.

"What the hell, Sammy? You can't tell me that wasn't weird. Normal kids don't do that."

"I know. I know, Dean. Did you see the way she shrank into herself whenever we got close?"

"Yeah. More importantly, why wouldn't she let us help?" I could sense the frustration in his voice. A too familiar feeling that only made me think of his body lying on the kitchen floor. He was an ass sometimes, but he was still my Dad. He was all I had left.

"Hey. Uh Madison? You alright in there?" Sam called out.

"Yup. Almost done." I grunted as the needle pierced inflamed skin. _Put the pain away. Far away. I poured it into a manilla envelope and mailed it to another continent. I pushed into into the mailbox, and it disappeared too far for me to know it anymore. _

Once the homemade stitches were done and I had cleaned up as best I could, I pulled myself up to look into the mirror. My hair was a bomb. Tangled masses hung in my face. I ran my fingers through it, and pulled it up with the band on my wrist. Touching the place on my face where my cheekbone met my jawbone, I winced when it stung. Reaching into the kit I rubbed a little vaporub on the site of the most soreness. I was ready to go back out when I remembered that my shirt was in shreds on the floor.

"Uh. Guys? Can I borrow a shirt or something? Mine is pretty much trash now."

"Sure. Just a sec. Soon the door cracked open and an arm stuck through. I was hiding behind the door but I grabbed the tee shirt from his hand and the door closed after. I gingerly pulled the Led Zeppelin shirt over my head, careful of the new stitches. It hung long on me. The hem rose to the middle of my thigh, and the sleeves were at my elbows. But it was soft. And it smelled of gunpowder and fast food. Kinda like Dad.

Opening the door, I found Dean on one of the queen beds with a beer in his hand, watching the tv and Sam at the table with a laptop in front of him. I quietly slipped to the bed closest to the door, as far away from them as I could be. Curling into a position that didn't rub at my stomach, I soon fell fast asleep to the sound of discovery channel and the quiet voices of the two brothers besides me. I was too tired to care that I was alone with them for the moment. I could worry about that tomorrow.

It had been fourteen hours since I fell asleep that night. I didn't move when Sam turned off his computer, and pulled the pillow next to me to the ground. I didn't make a sound when Dean pulled the a blanket over my shoulders so I wouldn't feel the chill of night. The light streaming from the door didn't rouse me nor did the scent of bacon cheese burgers that Dean ate for breakfast. Being stabbed by vampires is exhausting.


	4. Chapter 4

**I realized that I forgot to add the disclaimer in here before I got 4 chapters in. Oops. I do not own Supernatural, only Madison and her father. In this chapter you get to know a little bit more about Madison's dad. His words in Maddie's head are italicized and have quotations, I hope it's not too difficult to figure out who's talking. ****Thanks for reading and don't forget to review/follow! **

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**Last Line:** It had been fourteen hours since I fell asleep that night. I didn't move when Sam turned off his computer, and pulled the pillow next to me to the ground. I didn't make a sound when Dean pulled the a blanket over my shoulders so I wouldn't feel the chill of night. The light streaming from the door didn't rouse me nor did the scent of bacon cheese burgers that Dean ate for breakfast. Being stabbed by vampires is exhausting.

It was nearly nine o'clock when I finally started to move. I opened my eyes slowly. There was a moment of complete and utter bliss when I first woke up, where I had forgotten where I was, and what had just happened to me. I woke up wondering why Dad never woke me up for morning PT and worrying that he had spent the night at the bar. I thought I still had finals to study for, and a coffee date with Rachel at noon. That dream was quickly shattered, when the first thing I saw was that ugly ass wallpaper, and the blanket covering me, wasn't the quilt that Nana made me. I wasn't in my room anymore. My life wasn't the same anymore.

When I finally sat up, the pain from the area near my belly button was almost unbearable. I couldn't help but gasp and grip tightly onto the side of the bed.

"Hey. Hey. Maddie. Are you okay?" Sam looked at me with concern, but he didn't run to my side. He kept his distance.

I took a few moments to calm myself. _Put the pain away. In a box. Under the bed. Behind your winter boots. It's too far away to touch you now. _"Yeah. I'm fine. I'm fine."

"You slept for freaking forever. So glad I'm not a teenager anymore." Dean mumbled from his spot at the little kitchenette table. "That reminds me, how old are you anyway, thirteen?"

"No. I'm not thirteen. I'm sixteen, you ass." I grumbled back at him, standing up this time. I wobbled a little, and I saw the boys hesitate, but I caught myself, and stood tall. "Now. I should get home. I have to shower. And eat. And I would kill for some coffee. Normally I would just walk. But I think I'm gonna need a ride today." I said placing my hand on the wall, using it to hold me up.

"Uh. I'm not so sure that is a good idea Madison. There are some things we need to explain to you, but if you'd like, you can have that shower first." Sam looked at the ground, then back up at me.

_Shower. That means spending more time here. Here is dangerous. Here is bad. I shouldn't be here. Not anymore. _"Thanks Sam. But I really need to go home." I looked down. _No eye contact. Don't look at them. Be confident but don't upset them._

"Madis-"

"Mads. Look we can't take you home. Not until you know some stuff and not until we know you're safe." Dean interrupted.

"_Do not say no. You never say no, Madison. Do not say no to me or to anyone else. I will not have a disrespectful child." I could hear him scolding me in my head._

"Yes, sir." The words burned like fire coming out of my mouth. But these were rehearsed words.

For a moment Dean looked taken back, but he shook it off quickly. "Why don't you sit down."

"At the table?" _"Do exactly as I say, Madison. Do not disappoint me again." He was always so mad. _

"Sure. Sam can grab you some coffee too, right Sammy?" Dean looked expectantly at Sam. _No. NO. Alone. Again._

"Yeah. Black or with creamer, Madison?" Sam quickly asked as he picked up the wallet sitting on the table and slid it into his back pocket.

"Whatever they have is fine. Thanks." _Eyes on the ground._

"Kay. I'll be back in a few." Sam looked back at Dean and me, now sitting across from each other, before he shut the door.

"Madison. Are you alright?" Dean asked, watching me as I sat with my back straight against the chair, my feet flat, unmoving on the ground.

"Yes. I am alright, sir." My eyes never left that spot. That spot where the edge of the wall just touched the corner of the worm carpet.

"You don't have to call me sir, you know. I'm not your drill sergeant."

"Okay." There was a stain there. It was yellow, the color of a healing bruise.

"Who was with you back at the house last night? Was that your Dad?"

"Yes, sir." I wonder if someone spilled coffee there.

"Oh. I'm sorry we couldn't save him."

"I understand." It would have to be the kind of coffee that was blonde with cream and sugar.

"I have to tell you something, and honest to God, I wish I didn't have to tell you this. That thing that killed your dad last night, it wasn't human. It was a vampire. They're as much real as any other nightmare. I know your dad was tough, but they have superhuman strength. There is no way he could have won. I really am sorry." Dean's voice was calm, quiet but firm, nothing like my father's. "Maddison. Will you please look at me?" Dean asked softly. I raised my eyes up to meet his. His eyes were the prettiest green I'd ever seen, the color of summer grass. "What happened to your face? Did the vamp do this?"

_What would he do if he knew? They'd take me away. But they're gonna take me away anyway._ I broke my gaze, back down to the maybe coffee stain.

"Madison. What happened?" I twisted my hands into themselves, cracking my knuckles.

_"Don't you ever lie to me Madison. I will not tolerate a liar in my house." Did this count as lying?_

Dean's hand lifted my chin up to his gaze again, gingerly. His eyes examined the bruised, swollen skin, at least it wasn't a black eye this time. "He did this didn't he?" His voice got loud, and I flinched away. "Damnit. Damnit!" Dean stood up, pushing his chair backwards, slamming his hands down on the table. I couldn't help but to shrink back into myself.

_Be small. Be small. _He walked away and then back again, pacing. "_Don't look at me Madison. That only makes it worse. You only make it worse" _

"That bastard. What the hell was he thinking?" Dean was practically yelling now. I heard the door open, but I couldn't look at the doorway.

_"You were a mistake, Madison. I never wanted you, and neither did she." _

"Dean. What's going on?" Sam asked, walking over to me and setting a eggshell colored coffee cup on the table in front of me.

"He hit her, Sammy. That bastard hit her." He gestured to me.

"Dude. Vamps hit people all the time. She got stabbed. Shouldn't that be a bigger concern?" Sam questioned.

"No. The Dad. The dad hit her. And I'm willing to bet that wasn't the first time he did it. Look at her, Sam. She's barely sixteen."

"Is this true, Madison? Did he hit you often?" Sam turned to ask me. I stayed silent.

_"__Just be quiet Madison. You never say anything important anyway." _He didn't say anything, just raised his hand to his mouth, turning to Dean.

"Mads. Will you let us see your stomach? I promise we won't hurt you." Dean knelt down in front of me, but I pulled my legs up, wrapping my arms around my knees, hugging myself.

"Look. I promise we won't hurt you. We just need to check. I don't think he just punched your face." Sam responded, standing behind Dean.

"And I promise, you sure as hell don't want to do this." My voice cracked a little when I spoke. It was true though. "_Don't show anyone this, Madison. You have to hide it. If you tell a soul, I will do worse than you have ever known. You will know what real pain is, if you breath a word of this."_

"I don't know what you're trying to hide. I know your Dad used to hit you. I know you got stabbed last night. I know you patched yourself up last night, because you didn't want us to see something." Dean stood back up, pacing back and forth again.

"Has it ever occurred to you that people keep secrets for a reason?" I shouted back. _Oh no. Did I just raise my voice to him? He'll hit me. Nobody ever keeps their promises anyway. They can't know. I'll be sent to the mental hospital. No one understands._

"What are you scared of? You will be okay. We're going to take you to another family member, and they will never have to know, if you don't want them to. We just need to make sure you're safe." Sam's face was soft as he spoke.

"Do you think we'll judge you or something? Call you ugly and fat? Because you are not either of those things" Dean stated earnestly from his place near the door. He just kept moving around.

"I don't have anywhere left to go! Everyone is gone. Everyone! I'm going to wind up in a freaking group home anyway. And if you know then I'll go to a mental hospital. Do I look like I belong in a mental hospital? Hell. No." _I have to stand up for myself. I'll pay for talking back later._ "You two don't give a shit. I know it. You'll leave in in a few days too. Everyone does."

"The hell we will. I'm not going anywhere. Not now. I have business to attend to. And that business is you. We picked you up, we will stay with you until we figure this out. But we can't help you if we don't know what is wrong." Dean hollered back at me.

"Just show us, Madison. We won't be mad, whatever it is." Their eyes both pleaded with me.

"You wanna know so bad? I'll show you. But don't call me Madison. He always called me Madison, and I hate him." I stood up, pushing the chair backwards, as I reached to the hem of the Zeppelin shirt I was borrowing. Pulling it up to expose the area between my bra and the waistband of my jeans.

I watched them as they fell silent. Dean swallowed a lump in his throat, looking down on me. I swear I saw those summer green eyes get a little moist. Sam furrowed his eyebrows, little creases forming in the space above his nose.

"Some secrets, are supposed to stay secret, you know." I whispered, mostly to myself.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks so much for all the support I've gotten form everyone reading! It means a lot to me that y'all are enjoying the story. Just a reminder: I do not own Supernatural only my OCs. Also please don't forget to review, the kind notes you all leave me make me smile. **

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**Last Line: **I watched them as they fell silent. Dean swallowed a lump in his throat, looking down on me. I swear I saw those summer green eyes get a little moist. Sam furrowed his eyebrows, little creases forming in the space above his nose.

"Some secrets, are supposed to stay secret, you know." I whispered, mostly to myself.

* * *

A few moments passed by agonizingly slow. I had just shown two complete strangers the deepest and darkest part of me. Part of me was relieved, a burden lifted from my shoulders. I didn't realize secrets were so heavy. The other part of me was devastated. Those secrets were all I had. That was the only thing that was truly mine. Now it belonged to someone else.

I pulled the shirt back down over my stomach and leaned back into my chair. Fingering the plastic lid of my coffee, I turned to face the window beside the table.

Night was starting to fall on to my city, the stars had already settled into their places across the sky. I could hear the faint sounds of cars driving on the interstate as they rumbled by, completely unaware that my life was falling apart, spinning, like a fighter plane shot out of the sky, nearing the cold ground with increasing speed. The silence was thick in the room. Neither Sam nor Dean had the words yet, and frankly, I didn't want to talk about it.

Standing back up, I walked to the door where my sneakers lay, slipping my feet into them, I announced, "I'm going out for some air. I'm not leaving, so don't get your panties in a twist. Holler if you need something." And with that I opened and closed the door without looking back.

The motel was one floor, with rooms stretched out of both sides of me. We were in room 22. I sat on the curb in front of room 22, wincing as the stitches pulled at my skin and my jeans rubbed against fresh wounds. _"Why'd you have to open your mouth? Huh girl? Why do ya always have to go out and create more problems?" _ The man may be dead, but I couldn't seem to outrun his taunting voice. _"I'm going out. Don't wait up. Don't make a mess. Don't be foolish Madison. Quit making mistakes." _ His voice was scratchy, raspy, the way you'd expect a smoker to sound. But he never smoked. Just drunk, and trained.

I took a sip of the cooling coffee in my hands. Taking the plastic white lid off, and I gazed at the drink. It was the color of the stain in the corner of the room, a sickly blonde that reeked of fake sugar and flavors. It reminded me of mom for a moment. This is what she always drank. Dad and called it a sissy drink. Placing my hand on the cement I pushed upwards, using the solid ground and the nearby trash can to keep me from falling. The world started to get a little fuzzy, my vision dancing at the edges again. I closed my eyes trying to picture steady, picture balanced. Then maybe I would be alright. Tossing the nasty drink in with the takeout containers and cigarette butts, I released the edge of the can and took a step. My balance was off, and I couldn't correct myself, all I could do was yell, "DEAN!" as I felt my body go unlevel, the ground getting closer. It was all seeming to happen in slow motion.I stretched my arm out mid fall in an attempt to prevent my skull from connecting with the concrete first. The door to room 22 swinging open was the last thing I saw.

When I came to again, I was laid out on the same motel bed, and I could hear voices near by but I couldn't will my eyes open.

"I know Sam! Trust me I know. But what are we supposed to do?" Dean whisper-yelled.

"This is what? The fourth time she's passed out? That stab wound was deep, and nasty. It looked like she stitched it up good, but what about infection? And that's not even dealing with the other - stuff." Sam argued back.

"I saw them. God. I saw them." Dean signed.

I guess I fell back asleep. I didn't hear anything after that. I just dreamt.

_He was chasing me. Getting closer and closer. I ran, but no matter how hard I pushed my feet against the ground, he was always right behind me. I ran until I couldn't catch my breath and my legs were shaking too hard to stand. He caught me then. When I was at my weakest point. All I could do was close my eyes and will the pain away. I tied the pain onto the wings of bluebirds and released a flock into the sky. They flew up and away. Dancing around treetops, singing. The weight of my aches were no match for their wings, I never saw one slow down, as they glided on open winds away from me. _

It was hot in my skin. And then it was cold. Chills and shivers that went straight through to my bones. The darkness was overpowering. Stronger than I ever could have been, and it was nearly comforting. The black cradled me. Silencing my cries for a few moments. Until the Sandman called me back again.

_Hospitals have always seemed too bright to me. Too many lights and white walls. The disinfect floats on the air, mixing in my lungs, like that's how it's always been. I've been in this waiting room for hours and the clock keeps ticking on the wall across from me. There is nobody here with me. Nobody here to hold my hand, or to cry with, or to take turns watching over her. Everyone keeps walking by me. Like their world is somehow still intact. She was asleep when I left. She's been asleep since she got here a week ago. I can't go outside. The night air cuts through me like the stares of these strangers, and you can only retreat to the bathroom so many times before you start to look suspicious. The doctor comes out, dressed in his white lab coat, standing there like he was some controller of fate. He calls my name and asks again about my father. And I repeat the same story I've always been told. 'He's high ranking. Working top level missions. He's unreachable, untraceable. He won't be back for another six months.' He asks again about other family. And I can only tell him once more about how there is no one else left. Just me and Mom. And even she's not really here anymore. _


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry about the late update guys! My weekend was a bit busy and time got away from me. Here's the next chapter, we're getting close to the end of the story now. Just a reminder; I do not own supernatural only Madison and her father are mine. Thanks for reading and don't forget to review!**

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Last line: _He asks again about other family. And I can only tell him once more about how there is no one else left. Just me and Mom. And even she's not really here anymore._

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_I must have been six or seven. It was summer, and the sun shined down on my skin, bringing out the freckles on the bridge of my nose. Mom was with me, walking besides me, carrying an old cooler. We were in the park, the one right down the street, and today was her day off._

"_How about that spot over there, sweetie?" Mom asked, pointing to the shaded area under a large tree. _

"_Perfect Momma." I shouted running off to the tree, kicking a soccer ball so it hit the tree and bounced back at me. _

_She set down the cooler, and pulled out lunch. Gramcrackers with peanut butter and orange sodas for a treat. But that wasn't the best part. We had just finished the cracker sandwiches when she told me that she had brought a surprise. I looked expectantly at her as she pulled fruit snacks from the bottom of the cooler. My favorite. _

_That was back before things got bad._

I woke up quietly, slowly, relishing the warm memories of her face in the summer sun, tasting the fruit snacks on my tongue. The sounds of birds chirping from their place high in the trees sung to me. I was happy. I was really happy for a few moments. Then the rhythmic beeping and sanitary smell snatched me from my dreams.

When I opened my eyes, all I saw was white. And I knew within seconds where I was,at the hospital.  
"Dean! Sammy! Where are you?" I half shouted, before I realised that I sounded like a dying frog, my voice was filled with crackles and squeaks.

"Mads, I am right here. I didn't leave. Neither did Sam. He's just taking a walk. He'll be back, promise. How are you doing?" Dean assured me as he stood along side my hospital bed.

"Why the hell am I in the hospital, Dean? What's going on? You said you wouldn't bring me here." I answered angrily.

"Yeah. Well. We promised that before you got an infection and when you could stay conscious for more than an hour." Dean stated, calmly, as he rested back into the chair besides my bed. "We didn't really have a choice, since letting a sixteen year old die isn't exactly legal and moral these days."

"I wasn't gonna die." I deadpanned.

"Oh. Good. You're awake darling. I'm so glad. I'm your nurse, Kim. Did your uncle explain what was going on to you?" A petite brunette asked from the doorway. She held a clipboard in her hands, and set it on the counter to adjust a dial on one of the machines I was hooked up to.

"My uh. Uncle? I don't-"

"Maddie. I know you're in rough shape, but don't worry. You'll remember me in no time. Good ol' uncle Roy. Right, baby?" Dean interjected before I could say anything else, giving me the eye, that was telling me to remember.

"Oh. Right. I remember now. Uncle Roy. Sorry. I didn't mean to forget about you." I responded, a little sarcastically.

"You will remember everything in no time at all, don't you worry. Sometimes the mind is a little fuzzy, especially after everything you went through." The nurse told me sweetly as she held my wrist taking my pulse.

"Speaking of. What exactly did I go though?" I asked looking at the nurse and Dean.

"Your uncles brought you in a few days ago when they found you after the break in at your father's house. A burglar broke in, remember? He uh stabbed you and your father? They came into the house and found you, looks like you tried to patch yourself up, but it got infected. You know you can just call 911 when that happens, right dear? They'll help you even if you don't have insurance. You didn't have to lay in there by yourself." The nurse looked at me sadly, as she flipped the chart in her hands open.

"Oh. Right." I responded, rolling my eyes at Dean while Kim looked away.

"The good news is, that you can go home now, though. We we'll be sending you with your uncles for now. They will be your guardians until the court can decide who your legal guardian will be. That is as long as you go to a therapist." Kim smiled a little too enthusiastically at me.

"A therapist? Why do I need to see a therapist. I'm fine." I half yelled, defensively.

Kim looked back at me, this time with what looked a lot like pity in her eyes. "Yes dear. We saw your scars. I understand that life is difficult sometimes but you are too beautiful to cut yourself up like that. A therapist will help you to find better ways to cope with your problems. Well. I'm going to go get these discharge papers filled out, and you can be out of here in no time at all." Kim sung as she pranced out the door, closing it softly behind her.

"What the hell Dean? A therapist? I don't need to see a freakin' shrink. I can deal with my problems. I've been doing it fine all on my own for years now." I hollered, sitting up in my bed. This was about the time that Sam walked through the door, with a backpack slung over his shoulder. "Sam? Did you know about this?"

"Know about what Maddie?" Sam questioned. "I'm glad you're up. You were asleep for a while there."

"She's mad because the nurse said she had to see a therapist. But she is getting discharged soon" Dean responded for me. "She doesn't know that if she can show us, she can handle her problems without a knife, she doesn't have to see a shrink."

"Wait. What?" I asked, surprised.

"Dean and I have already talked it over. You are going to stay with us for a while. At least until you're legal, or you find somewhere else to stay. We made up a little paperwork trail with some help of an old friend, suggesting that your mother was our sister. So you can stay with us. That way we can keep an eye on you, and you don't have to go into a group home. That's what you wanted right?" Sam asked me, sitting on the bench beside the window.

"Yeah. I guess. I really do need to go home first though. I need clothes. Real clothes. And some other stuff." I stated, leaning back into the hospital bed.

"Sammy brought you some clothes to go home in, and we will take you back, if you really want. But you need to know that we are going to make sure that you don't bring any blades with you. Not until you can control yourself."

"I can control myself. And I'm not five." I huffed.

I stopped for a moment, closing my eyes, resting again. "God. If he could see me now. I didn't say sir once in that sentence. And I haven't ran for days. He would be so pisssed." I mumbled.

"You don't have to call us sir, if it makes you feel better. In fact I think I'd prefer you didn't. Our old man always had us do that. And I wouldn't force his parenting strategies on anyone." Dean said quietly.

"And the running thing. I ran so many miles with that man." Sam chuckled.

"Maybe we have more in common than I thought we did." I sighed.


	7. Chapter 7

**I do not own Supernatural only my characters. This is the last chapter! We made it! And I want to make sure to thank everyone who read and essentially those who reviewed your feedback means the world to me!**

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Last Line: "Maybe we have more in common than I thought we did." I sighed.

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After all of the doctors and nurses had looked over me a final time, it was determined that I was healthy enough to go home, as long as I was careful, and took care of my wounds. Sammy ha into my house, unsurprisingly, and brought a pair of black sweats and a hoodie for me to wear home and soon I was situated in the passenger seat of the Impala.

"So. Where are we going?" I questioned over the radio.

"To your house, so you can get your stuff, then we are getting out of this town." Dean responded. "I'm sick of it already."

"What about the vamps that killed my dad? Are there more of them? Will they kill other families?" I asked, concerned.

"Dean and I took out the nest while you were at the hospital. There aren't anymore here, don't worry." Sam leaned towards the back seat to answer.

"Oh"

Dean pulled the car to a slow stop in front of the place that used to be my home. Taking a big gulp I tugged on the door handle, and took a step outside. I made my way, cautiously up the the doorstep, Sam and Dean behind me. Sam pulled a lock pick from his pocket and started to work at the deadbolt.

"Dude. I live here. I have a key." I announced. "Move over." Pushing him to the side I pulled a hide-a-key container from the flower pot on the step, inserting the key and swinging it open. I took a careful step, immediately I saw the bloodstains on the carpet, and the police tape around the spot where it happened. Quickly I looked away, and faced the boys, "I'm going upstairs." I ran up the stairs as well as I could without pulling stitches, not stopping until I reached the doorway. With a shaky hand on the door, I looked around at my room. My binder was still overturned besides my bed, flashcards strewn about the floor, just the way it was when I stumbled out of here last week.

Ignoring the mess, I went to my closet to dig out one of Dad's old army bags, it was bigger than any of the bags I owned, and I always used it for trips, it only seemed appropriate that I take it on my last trip out of this house. Setting it on the ground I saw that Dean was standing in my doorway, watching me.

"What should I bring?" I questioned.

"Uh. Nothing fancy. Just jeans and stuff. And anything that is sentimental. Anything else you need we can pick up for you later." He answered.

I nodded, turning back to my closet, pulling out jeans and shirts. I threw in a pair of shorts and a summer dress just in case, and some running clothes. A pair of sneakers, and some boots also got tossed in. I moved to my desk. Opening a drawer I pulled out headphones and my cell phone charger. Moving to the bathroom I put a some makeup and hair ties in a little bag. When I came back to my desk, I hesitated for a moment. Maybe I could sneak the rose engraved boxed without him questioning me. But Dean saw me pause, "Mads. No blades. Don't even think about it." he said firmly. Sighing, I took the ring set out on the dresser and clenched it tightly in my fist. Taking a final glance at my room, I felt my breath catch. I didn't think I'd ever leave this place. "Do you have everything?" Dean asked looking earnestly at me.

"I just need one more thing." I said, pushing past him with the full duffle in my arms.

"Here, let me carry that." Dean told me reaching out and pulling it from my hands before I could protest. He followed me down the hall, to his room. The door was open a little ways, and I looked in, seeing the chain on his nightstand. I pushed up the door, but couldn't step in. I just stood there, tears forming despite my vain attempts to stop them. Dean noticed, my hesitation, "What do you need in there?"

"His. Uh. Tags. They're beside the bed." I choked out.

"I got it." He moved past me, with the bag slung over his shoulder, walking to the bed. He picked up the chain, but paused to look at the photo next to it. It was of all of us, before she was gone. I was twelve, and he was home for a few months. Mom and Dad were holding hands, and I was standing close to them, Mom must have said something funny because we were both looking at her, our eyes bright and our mouths open wide. That was before everything got bad. Dean grabbed the picture, pulling it out of the frame, and gingerly set it in the top of the bag, zipping it back up again. He walked to me, placed the dog tags gently in my hands and waited while I stared at them. "Come on Mads. Let's get out of here." Dean said quietly.

Sam was waiting when we got downstairs. "Where did your dad keep important paperwork? I need your birth certificate." Sam questioned.

"It's in his room. In his safe. The code is 5-23-81" I answered without looking at him.

"Why don't you go grab that, Sammy? Maddie and I will be out in the car." Dean said, looking at Sam.  
"Sure. I'll just be a minute." Sam sounded, thundering up the stairs.

Dean had just slammed the trunk shut, when Sam emerged from the house, both of them getting in the car at the same time.

"Do you have everything you need kiddo?" Sam asked, turning in his seat to face me.

"Yeah. Can we get the hell out of here now, please?"

"I was just thinking the same thing, Mads." Dean said as he turned on the radio and hit the gas, speeding away.

Here in the back seat, I didn't care where we went. I could drive coast to coast, I just needed to get away from this town and it's suffocating walls. "Hey Dean? Can we listen to Bon Jovi?"

"Hell Yes! She's got good taste Sammy." Dean nearly shouted, smacking Sam's shoulder.

"Great. Another mullet rock fan." Sam grumbled. Dean and I just laughed, as I put her wedding band next to his tags, and pulled the chain under my hoodie. Maybe things do better.


End file.
